When my kids were growing up, there were so many magical times.  Mostly what I loved, is that there was an air of acceptance for all of us.  We were a blended family.  By statistics, we probably shouldn’t have done as well as we had…but honestly, there was so much love in our home.  Love got us through the sticky times.. By many standards, we weren’t perfect…but for each other, we were.

Enjoy my poem of our old childhood home…Three girls and neighbors who loved us.

10893 Montana

Home of oozy goozy mud art

proudly displayed on each child’s belly

and perfect bouffant.

 

Home of last minute backyard campouts

of roasted hotdogs and marshmallows

because our neighbor Ray had made

an “emergency” run to the store.

 

Home of Friday night pizza

dance videos and mini fractured fairytale skits

for a dozen giggly girls.

 

Home of make-shift forts

of bunkbeds and sheets

And “when do you think you’ll be taking that down?

I need to water my lawn.”

 

Home of visqueen and duct tape slip and slides

and neighbors who helped realtors take the signs down

to ensure our stay.

 

Talks over fences

Neighbors mowing our lawns because we were crazy busy

Junior’s eyes dancing with delight as Sophie, our dog,

Accepted his table treasures.

 

Flooding waters making wading pools

Splashing and running carefree through them.

 

No kitchen table…but couch trampolines.

 

Home of 2 families weaving themselves

into one fabric

and clothing themselves

in their warmth and gaiety.

 

10893 Montana

Where mommy is melted on the front porch.